


Prompto The Worst Patient

by BlackRose



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:45:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRose/pseuds/BlackRose
Summary: Prompto's spent so much of his time alone that he's bad at being taken care of. Even when he desperately needs to be.





	Prompto The Worst Patient

It wasn't like he was _trying_ not to sleep. 

Under any other circumstances, Prompto would have been utterly delighted to just lie back in Noct's huge, obscenely-comfy bed and roll himself up in these wonderfully-soft thick blankets like the Star's coziest sushi. And these pillows! They were huge, and ridic fluffy and just the best things he'd ever laid his head on. So much nicer than his bed at home---and in a way that was precisely the problem. He was a commoner, an immigrant; what right did he have to be sprawling his dirty, Scourge-tainted body all over the Prince of Lucis' luxuriant bedding? Noctis probably resented or even outright hated him for, but was just too polite to say so. Protocols and whatnot, he decided, turning onto his other side for the fifth time in ten minutes. Between the body aches, coughing fits and the old nagging anxieties and insecurities nibbling at his brain, he simply couldn't relax and drift off like he should and needed to do. 

A lot of that was probably the fever, granted. But still. It had confirmed to him a lot of the things he inwardly felt to be true of himself; for example: his parents secretly hated him. They were glad to have to travel for work, and be away from him. They knew the monster he really was, the thing he'd watched himself become in nightmares for nearly a week now: just humanoid enough to be horrifying; moving stiltedly, eyes glowing red and vacant, no life behind them. Green-patinaed skin, weathered with exposure to the Glacian's chill. He hated that chill; it had settled into his bones and it made him shiver endlessly, no matter how many blankets Ignis or Gladio piled on him. Six, they were probably so tired of his whining! What was he, some helpless little baby?! He'd looked after himself while sick before, and he'd eventually do it again. The very gods-damned least he could do was try making their self-appointed job a little bit easier! 

Thus decided, Prompto carefully levered himself upright, and immediately buckled over in another coughing spasm. Ugh, he hated that! It was so annoyingly-loud and barky; he was probably keeping Noctis awake. But at least it had shaken loose some of the chunky crap lodged in his chest; he wasn't wheezing quite so hard now. Still cold, but that wasn't likely to change. It took a few minutes for his heavy limbs to obey and propel him onto his feet. Astrals, was he getting fat again?! Maybe that explained the pain in his joints. The dizziness also. Next time Ignis brought him soup (assuming he did, and hadn't just left in disgust) he'd politely refuse. Had to try and keep himself fit since the others were so adamant that he was 'in no shape' to go for his usual morning runs. Yeah, okay; given the way his head was throbbing, the very idea of jogging made him want to curl up in a ball and cry, but still. Had to keep in shape. Couldn't be weak, useless. He _was_ useless. Gods, he hoped his friends didn't know.

He managed to sneak down the hall undetected (despite a pause to cough so hard it almost felt like a lung might have popped out) and locate the kitchen. He'd drink some water; Ignis kept insisting that was important. Flush away the grossness, the ugly, the useless. The evil. He'd never said so in as many words, granted, but the way his green eyes had drilled into Prompto's, the message had been clear enough. The glass was like ice in his hands---clear as crystal; cool and smooth. Also slippery. He watched in slow-motion as it fell such a long distance to the floor, shattering into glittery shards. For a crazy moment he didn't believe they were real; he was more than half-convinced if he reached out to touch them the sharp little fragments would melt away into puddles on the tile. Then suddenly the world snapped back into focus and his heart started racing. He broke something, damned idiot that he was! Ugh, now he'd have to pay Noctis back and since they'd been keeping him home from his shifts at the camera shop. he had no money this week---maybe he could work to make it up to them? Was slavery still legal in Insomnia? 

He could almost feel the leg irons dragging him to floor, and suddenly he was so tired and scared and hurting so badly that all he could do was cry. He wound up crouched on the floor, face in his hands, trying to muffle the sobs so the others didn't hear. 

A soft curse and the sound of glass breaking, followed quickly by a heavy thud on the kitchen floor and the sound of quiet gasps had Noctis on his feet in an instant, certain he'd find Prompto sprawled out semi-conscious having hit his head on the counter. He'd been so unsteady lately, but he insisted on trying to do things for himself---no matter how much he or Ignis or Gladio insisted they just wanted to help him, he looked so ashamed and borderline fearful, as if he thought they'd stop liking him if he didn't hurry up and get well right away. It had to be the fever; what little medicine they could get him to take just barely seemed to be touching it. The first time Ignis had coaxed Prompto into sitting still long enough for a thermometer to be inserted into his ear, it had read 102 when he'd removed it. Now, seeing his best friend huddled up shaking on the floor, sobbing over a broken water glass, Noctis was grimly certain the number would now be much higher. Ignis immediately moved in to start sweeping up the glass, as Noct squatted next to his buddy and palmed his forehead. 

Yeah, not good. He was absolutely boiling. 

The touch seemed to startle Prompto; he blinked up at Noct with glassy, tear-filled eyes. It seemed to take him a moment to register who was next to him, and when he did, his lip immediately started quivering. 

"I'm sorry, Noct! I didn' meant to break it, m'so sorry, I'll pay for it I promise!"

The words were a hoarse, panicked babble that died away into a coughing fit. It was thick and congested-sounding, and he couldn't stop for nearly a full minute. Noctis held him upright until he was able to breathe again, then immediately pulled him into a hug. 

"It's just a glass, Prom. I've got a million of 'em. They break; it happens. You're okay. We're okay. Okay?"

Prompto drew in a shuddering breath and nodded. 

"Can help clean it up..."

He tried getting to his feet, but wavered. Gladio steadied him. 

"Nope. New rule: only people who can stand up without falling get to clean up glass. Here, grab on."

Prompto stared a moment, but cautiously reached out and grasped onto Gladio's neck. The Shield scooped him up as if he weighed nothing at all (he was losing weight again; they'd have to keep an eye on that and make sure he didn't refuse to eat ) and glanced back at Noct.

"Bedroom is where?"

"Uh, second door on the right," he answered as the big man took off down the hall. Prompto sighed in sleepy relief as Gladio carried him back into the bedroom. 

"I'like this," he mumbled, snuggling his burning cheek into Gladio's shoulder. 

"Feel safe...with you. You're strong. Nothing can....hurt me, if you're there."

Gladio stroked back his hair. 

"Go to sleep, Prom."

"Can'," came the tired, despairing reply, "bad dreams an' it hurts too much..."

So Gladio perched on the edge of the bed, still cradling Prompto in his arms. Reaching over, he grasped the fluffiest blanket and pulled it over him. Then he settled back against the headboard, softly rocking him.

"I'll stay right here then, okay? Nothing can get you, because I've got you. I'll always keep you safe, no matter what. So will Iggy, so will Noct. We love you. I love you."

A sleepy smile crossed the stricken man's face as he cuddled up to Gladio. 

"Love you too. Y're...so warm. Good pillow."

He pressed a kiss to the side of Gladio's neck and mumbled:

"I won' tell Noct, promise."

That was how the other two found them when they finished cleaning up the glass. Noct looked astonished but Gladio just smiled.

"Used to do this with Iris, when she was sick and couldn't sleep. Figured it'd work on him too."


End file.
